


The Origin of  Dorkus Aurelius - The Beginning

by PumpkinQueen13



Series: Pre-Planet Sheen [1]
Category: Planet Sheen
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 01:51:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1762255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinQueen13/pseuds/PumpkinQueen13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorkus' primary goal wasn't originally to destroy Sheen. Here is where you will come to know the man that is Dorkus Aurelius and how he started off before becoming Royal Adviser to the Zeenuian Emperor. Pre-Planet Sheen era; OCs will be involved. Ratings are subject to change throughout the course of the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Soruan Tribe

On the opposite side of the planet Zeenu laid a plethora of tribal huts where the legendary Soruas dwelled. These tribal huts were not really “huts,” rather buildings made from stone and rock. Because it was simpler to name, the term for the dwellings were called “huts,” and not “houses.”

Despite the structure, they were not at all extravagant, for they liked to keep things simple…at least a majority of them did. The Soruas’ exalted leader and Tribal Lord dwelled in what was known as the “Grand Hut.” It wasn't a palace, per se, but it was made from minerals other than rock and stone which made it appear more extravagant; the unknown minerals were the main things that made the Grand Hut more durable to the planet’s harsh weather conditions.

Long before they were known as “Soruas,” they were known as “Koratians,” the citizens of the now-diminished planet, Korat. Korat was home to the Koratians, who displayed vast intelligence, immense strength, and great physical and mental endurance to a majority of the pain. Only a selected few were deemed the strongest and thus became leaders.

Nearly half of Korat’s population worshiped a dark god called Auros. The other part of the population further separated themselves from the Auros followers by indulging in healing magic to further strengthen their healing capabilities; some of the healers in turn became doctors.

The Koratians who worshiped Auros took a part of his name as a second name and called themselves “Aurelius” which means “follower of Auros.” By the time Korat was destroyed, most of the Aureliuses perished during the planet’s destruction, consumed by Auros’ darkness because he felt that their time was up, or disappeared off the face of the planet, never to be seen or heard from again. Only a selected group of Koratians from both sides of the planet escaped with their families and relocated elsewhere. 

What ever happened to Auros? The dark god took residence within a piece of weaponry, a scythe to be more precise, and whoever wielded the Scythe of Auros, as it was called, granted its wielder vast dark powers beyond their wildest imagination.

The current wielder of the Scythe of Auros was Lord Titus Aurelius, or “Lord Aurelius” as he would prefer the Soruas to refer to him as, the current Soruan Tribal Lord. He and his wife, Isra, ruled and maintained command over their people for well over one-hundred years when the tribes became a unity.

Years after the union of the tribes, Isra bore Titus their first-born son, Prince Palokus, the heir to the Soruan Tribe. Since Palokus’ birth, Titus had shown great pride in him, for Palokus was destined to lord over their tribe with a fierce hand and was already undergoing training at his current age of two.

It wasn't long after Palokus’ first birthday did Isra become pregnant again with another son; the prince who would eventually consider his home Hell; the prince who would prove everyone else wrong; the prince who would fall and rise back up to power; the prince called Drakus Aurelius.


	2. The Soruan Prince

The Soruan tribe was woken up to a young boy screaming for his parents. The young boy was none other than Prince Palokus, Titus and Isra’s first-born son, and heir to the Soruan Tribe. “MAMA!!! PAPA!!!” Was what was shouted in the Grand Hut; the shout reverberated off the walls of the hut and made it out to the rest of the huts where groans of complaints were heard from the other Soruas.

Hearing his son scream, Titus woke up and sighed when he heard the rest of the tribe complain about the screaming. “Dekára…”[1] Titus then pinched the bridge of his curved nose and got up, being careful not to wake his wife. Before going to the door, he went to Isra’s side of the bed and whispered to her, “Palokus woke up, dear, I’ll go and calm him down…”

Isra stirred a little and opened her eyes just a crack, “Hmm…Káne ó, ti boreís, agapi̱té...”[2] Was all she said before turning the other direction and went back to sleep.

Titus huffed seeing her able to sleep through the ruckus that came from their son; he then huffed a second time after remembering that it was his turn to calm Palokus down. “Of all nights…” He grumbled and made his way to Palokus’ chambers.

By the time he arrived at Palokus’ chambers, the door was slightly opened. Fearing the worst, Titus barged in the room, only to see Palokus’ shivering form under his blanket on his bed. Sighing, Titus walked over to Palokus’ bed and sat down next to the boy’s form, gently petting the lump.

“Papa…?” Came the soft voice of the young Soruan prince as he peeked out from under the blanket. When he saw his father, he immediately jumped from his position and clung to Titus’ grey nightcloak, burying his face into his chest. “B-bad dream. S-scary…” Palokus stuttered, tears falling down his charcoal black face.

“There, now, Palokus…you cannot be scared of things like that…” Titus tried to soothe his son while lightly stroking the back of Palokus’ head. 

Palokus sniffled and looked up at his father with watery navy blue eyes, “Dark scary…” he whimpered.

Titus could only sigh as he looked around the darkened chamber. His intention was not to have Palokus be afraid of the dark, but to live in it and be safe with the shadows around them. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, son. You will learn to understand that when you get older, and use it to your advantage.” 

“Papa no afraid?” Palokus asked, he was finally starting to calm down by his father’s tone of voice; thus far his parents’ voices were the only things to calm him down when he was in a frightened state. If anyone else tried, it would be more or less of a lost cause.

Titus nodded at Palokus’ question, “Yes, and the word is ‘not?’” He corrected his son’s word. “But yes, I’m not afraid of the dark, and in time you’ll learn not to be afraid of it.”

Palokus smiled a bit at that and snuggled into Titus’ chest some more, relaxing and closing his eyes. Titus sighed contently and proceeded to put Palokus back under the covers when he heard a commotion from just outside the bedroom window.

The Soruan Lord looked outside the window to see two male Soruas fighting each other while the others were huddled up, cheering them on, paying no mind to what was currently happening around them.

“Well, this won’t do at all…all this commotion will only bother us even more…” Titus then opened the window and stepped onto the balcony. The other Soruas looked up to see their lord and stopped what they were doing immediately. “Return to your homes. I will be reprimanding those involved in the fight tomorrow morning.” Titus commanded them. They all quickly departed to their huts, not wanting to anger him anymore.

When Titus came back inside Palokus’ room, he could see that the boy was sound asleep, which made him most content that he was able to return to his own bed with his wife waiting for him. Isra was well into the ninth month of her pregnancy and both he and she needed all the rest they could get.

* * *

Mid-day, October 4, 1883, Grand Hut

“All medics escort Lady Aurelius to the medical hut, viasýni̱!”[3]

“What about Prince Palokus?!”

“Escort him to his chamber and someone alert Lord Titus!”

“Nai kyría mou!”[4]

The grand hut was in frenzy when shouts of pain came from within Titus and Isra’s shared chamber. Before all that started, Isra was spending time with her oldest son, Palokus, who was in the room with her when she felt painful contractions coming from within her swollen stomach. 

“Mama!” Was the yell that came from the young heir when he saw his mother fall to the ground, holding onto her stomach, her face scrunched up, a physical indication that she was in extreme pain. Palokus’ cry was what brought the Soruan Medics’ attention and they immediately rushed into the main chamber where all the frenzy started.

An older female Soruan Medic was the one that was instructing the other medics to take Isra to the medical hut and to take the scared and confused prince elsewhere, preferably away from all the stampeding.

When they managed to get Isra to lie on her back, she noticed that Palokus was not in the room. “W…Where is…my son…?” She asked, sweat beads starting to form on her light green skin, she didn’t want to feel more stressed out not knowing where her son was.

“Not to worry, milady, we’ve taken him back to his chamber; one of us is getting your husband now as we speak, just please hang on.”

Knowing Palokus, he wouldn’t manage to stay in his room for as long as this would take; that thought made Isra giggle a little before another contraction hit her. “G…go!” She commanded and the medics placed her on a makeshift stretcher and hurried out of the main chamber.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later...

Watching from around the corner of his chamber, Palokus’ eyes started to water up remembering the yelp of pain that he heard from his mother fifteen minutes ago. During that time, he tried to occupy himself with the fake wooden swords that his father had carved for him. He sniffed as he rubbed his eyes with his arm, knowing that his father wouldn’t want to see him like that. He couldn’t really help it as another wave of sadness hit the young Sorua and he started to cry again. 

“Mama…”

Heavy footsteps were heard from the end of the hallway as Palokus curled up into a little ball, continuing to cry for his mother.

“Palokus…” A booming voice called out to him, making him look up and see the towering intimidating figure that was his father, who was adorned in his black cloak and cape, holding the Scythe of Auros in his right hand, his violet eyes looking towards his weeping son.

“Papa!” Palokus wailed and ran over to Titus’ outstretched left hand. 

“Up we go, my boy.” Titus said as he slowly picked him up and held him to his chest where Palokus continued to cry. “No more tears, Palokus, Mama will be fine and all will be well.” He assured his son.

Palokus sniffed again and looked up at his father, “Mama?” He asked as he pointed in the direction the medics took off with his mother.

“I know you want to see your mother, let’s g—“

“Lord Titus!”

Titus stopped in his tracks when he saw a Soruan Medic head towards them. When the medic finally reached them, he bowed low before them. “What is it, Medic?”

“Your wife, milord. She’s given birth to another child.” The medic answered him as he straightened himself up.

Upon hearing that, Titus knew there was a problem and rushed down the hallway with Palokus in his arm and the medic following not too far behind them. A normal gestation period for Soruan females was one year, and she had informed him the night before that she was 10 months along. It would be a rarity that any Soruan female would give birth prior to the full period, rarer still with the infant surviving said premature birth. Thus far, no premature infant survived after a couple of hours after their birth.

Titus knew he had to hurry to the medical hut to at least see his youngest child before it died and to comfort his wife if he needed to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
> [1] Dekára… = Damn...  
> [2] Káne ó, ti boreís, agapi̱té... = Do what you can, dear...  
> [3] viasýni̱ = hurry  
> [4] Nai kyría mou! = Yes ma'am!


	3. Drakus

10 minutes earlier…

It was about five minutes that passed since the medics and Isra departed from the Grand Hut. It thankfully didn’t take them long to reach the Medical Hut since Soruas were quick and agile to get to their destination in a given amount of time. As soon as they reached a large spacious room in the Medical Hut, they placed Isra on the bed and backed away, letting their leader take over. “All right, everyone, clear the room! Only one of us needs to be in here!” The Head Medic called to the rest of the medics that were still present in the room. She then remembered something. “Has one of you called for Lord Titus?” She addressed the medics.

“Yes, ma’am, there are currently nine of us present out of the ten.” One of the medics responded and soon departed with the rest of them.

The Head Medic exhaled sharply through her nostrils as she went to Isra’s side. “Milady. What are your orders?” She asked Isra.

Isra looked at her and smiled. “There is no need for formalities, Nira, but--OW!” Isra cried out when she felt another big contraction hit her and curled up into a ball.

The Head Medic, named Niralua, grasped Isra’s legs and pulled them straight, “You can’t curl up, like that, milady, you’ll injury your unborn child!” Nira insisted as she grabbed for a cloth and proceeded to wipe away the sweat that was furiously dripping down Isra’s forehead.

Isra growled in annoyance, she knew what she had to do as she had given birth one other time, but sometimes in cases such as these, she put that aside due to her being in extreme pain. Still in pain, she managed to look at Nira, “P-Prepare the…equipment…I could feel…it switching positions…” she commanded.

* * *

10 minutes later…

After what seemed like an eternity, Isra gave birth to her second son, her white robe slightly covered with her blood. As Nira was cleaning off the infant, she noticed that he was smaller than any other infant she had delivered in her line of work. Sighing sadly, she gently picked up the infant, and walked over to Isra to hand him over to her.

“Eínai éna agóri, Laídi̱.”[1] Nira announced, trying to sound congratulatory.

Isra looked down at her infant son; he had the same light green complexion that she had, but the facial features of Titus was apparent. Her second son was indeed his father’s son if anyone was going to look at him on the basis of appearance. His protruding cheeks--which, for now, stuck out only slightly and wouldn’t stick out until much later—and his lowered jaw—also slight—reminded her of Titus. The only thing that was different from his father was his indented nose and his round shaped eyes; traits that he had inherited from her. 

“Isn’t he beautiful, Nira? He looks just like his father…” Isra cooed as she rubbed her own indented nose with her son’s.

Nira jerked her head up whenever Isra addressed her and nodded. “Erm, yes, milady, but…” She paused, not sure if Isra knew that she had given birth too early.

Isra looked up at Nira, who was fidgety, “But what, Nira? Is something wrong?” She asked.

Deciding to tell her leader anyway, she walked over to Isra and sat on what little available space there was on the bed. “It’s about your son.” She said as she gestured to the infant in Isra’s arms.

Isra closed her eyes and sighed heavily. “I know I’ve given birth two months early than when I’m supposed to…” She murmured sadly and opened her eyes again to look at her youngest son, who was still resting, not bothered by the female Soruas’ conversation. “However, he is Titus’ son, I know he won’t die…” Isra continued as she stroked the tiny bumps on the infant’s head.

Nira looked down at the infant and smiled, “If he does, it’ll be a miracle…I’ve seen too many premature infants die in a matter of hours, Isra. It’ll be hard on me if yours died like the others.” She said and gently placed a hand on the infant’s head, being careful not to disturb his slumber.

Moments later, a large shadow loomed over the females. Isra smiled while Nira became startled of her lord’s sudden appearance. “Milórdos.”[2] Nira addressed Titus, bowing before him. 

Titus nodded “Ópo̱s tha í̱tan, Nira.”[3] He said. He then looked around for Palokus who had gotten himself out of his grip and was currently missing. “Where is that boy?”

Isra looked towards him and stifled a giggle. “He’s closer than you think, dear.” She said and pointed to where Palokus was currently; on top of Titus’ head.

Titus sighed and reached up to grab Palokus around his middle with his large hand and plucked him off his head to bring him to his eye level. “Why must you do that, Palokus?” He asked Palokus with Palokus grinning from ear to ear.

“Fun!” Palokus giggled and stuck his tongue out slightly.

“Hmph.” Titus grumbled.

Nira smiled as she proceeded to leave the room, “I’ll leave you three alone, sir.” She said and left them alone.

A couple of minutes of silence later, Titus looked to Isra and then to the bundle in her arms. Hesitantly, he moved forward, not knowing what to expect. 

“Papa?” Palokus walked up to the bed beside him, wondering what his father was looking at. 

Titus picked him up again and gestured his hand to the infant Sorua in Isra’s arms. Palokus looked at his mother and then to the bundle in her arms the same was his father had done previously, his navy blue eyes scanning the bundle’s frame. Isra smiled at him before moving her arms forward, showing both Palokus and Titus the infant. 

Titus tilted his head to the side as he placed his scythe down for a moment. “Has he cried yet?” He asked Isra who was currently watching Palokus stare in awe at his baby brother.

Isra looked up at her husband and shook her head. “I’m afraid not, Titus…he hasn’t even cried when Nira cleaned him off…” She said sorrowfully.

“Then it won’t be long before he dies…” Titus grumbled, his charcoal colored face filled with the same sadness, knowing of the premature Soruas’ fate. He then snapped his fingers and a large cushioned chair seemed to appear out of nowhere which he sat down on. Palokus went over to him and sat on Titus’ left knee all the while continuing to look at his baby brother.

Isra continued stroking the infant’s head as she sighed sadly. “You know, we shouldn’t really think that he’ll die. This could be one of the rare occasions that he would survive. He is your son after all…” Isra said and leaned her head back against the bed.

Titus nodded. “True; it would be a miracle if he were to survive at least the day. If not, we could try again…” He said solemnly as he held Palokus in place by his waist.

A moment later, the infant Sorua stirred slightly in Isra’s arms, his tiny fingers gently clawing at her gown before falling back to his immobile state. Despite the movement being so slight, Isra smiled with pride and hope. “There could still be a chance.”

“Perhaps, but we won’t know until later, Isra.” Titus said as he continued to stare at his infant son.

Isra smiled at him before closing her eyes. Before she drifted off to sleep, she asked “What should we name him, my love?”

Titus stood up from the chair, continuing to hold onto Palokus, and looked down to the infant who had his eyes slightly opened to where Titus could see his son’s own violet eyes seemingly staring back at him.

“His name…shall be Drakus…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
> [1] Eínai éna agóri, Laídi̱ = It's a boy, milady  
> [2] Milórdos = Milord  
> [3] Ópo̱s tha í̱tan, Nira = As you were, Nira


	4. Lucky One

After hearing Titus name their second son, Isra looked down at her son’s still sleeping form. “Drakus…? Hmmm…I suppose it would do for the moment…” She said sleepily; she could barely keep herself awake after giving birth, and it was currently taking its toll on the Soruan Lady.

“You’re tired, Isra…let me put Drakus on the bed and I’ll let you sleep a bit more.” Titus said and outstretched his right arm while his left was holding onto Palokus.

Isra shook her head, “You need to hold him with both hands, Titus, I’m not going to risk him falling out of your hands because you didn’t have a good enough grip on him. But…before you do, give Palokus a closer look at his baby brother…” She instructed and smiled a bit when she heard her husband huff through his nose.

“Polý kalá…”[1] Titus nodded slowly and placed Palokus back down and reached out with both his hands to gently grasp the tiny Sorua from his wife’s hold, being extra careful as to not let the blue cloth loosen around his son’s frame that was currently keeping the baby still and quiet.

“Want to see, Papa.” Palokus jumped up and down insistently next to his father to attempt to get a closer look at the baby.

Titus sat back down on his chair and allowed Palokus to climb back on his lap while informing him not to accidentally kick the baby in his arms. “See Palokus?” He asked Palokus as he moved his arm closer to Palokus to give him a closer look. “This is Drakus, your brother…” Titus said as Isra smiled at them before closing her eyes to rest.

Palokus in turn, tilted his head to the side a bit. “Draky tiny.” He said as he proceeded to touch his baby brother; but not before Titus stopped him by pulling Drakus away from his reach.

“‘Draky’ needs to rest, Palokus.” Titus said solemnly, getting up from the chair and walked over to the little bed next to Isra’s to place the infant down on it. Titus then turned to Palokus and took his hand. “Let’s give your mother rest, son.”

Palokus pouted a little but walked out of the room with his father, stealing a glance back to the bed where his brother was currently resting on.

* * *

By the time night fell upon Zeenu and across the Tribe, the Soruas were already heading back to their huts to rest for what tomorrow may bring. Titus did not bother announcing that he had another son, but that was only because he did not know what the outcome will be for Drakus; with him born premature, his chances of surviving the next day were slim to none.

Back at the Medical Hut, Isra was soundly sleeping, and her sleeping hours old son twitched in his sleep ever so slightly. Isra did not see a dark figure that entered their room, weapon in hand, and moved over to where the sleeping Soruas lay. Being careful to not awaken the sleeping mother, the figure proceeded to the little bed next to hers and stopped, ominous red eyes glaring down at the baby Sorua.

Seeing that the baby was still breathing and very much alive made the figure seethe inwardly. If this boy were to survive, he would undoubtedly be weaker than the other Soruas, and that was something that was not to be allowed in the Tribe.

“I will not allow weakness in my family, son or not…” The figure spoke and raised his weapon in the air and aimed to strike the newborn.

As if on cue, the baby Sorua started whimpering before letting out a loud screeching wail, stopping the figure in his tracks and woke up Isra who managed to see the figure, but gasped when she recognized his form and his ominous red eyes that peered directly into her soul.

“Titus…” Isra shakily whispered out to her husband. “Why would you try to kill our son? Our son…” She asked him.

Titus could not even look directly at his wife when he answered her. “Drakus will be a weak child if he lives, Isra…that is something I will not allow in my family.” He responded, still holding onto his scythe that was currently shrouded in darkness.

Isra managed to get up and walked over to the little bed, her pain having subsided as the hours went by. “I will not allow you to harm our son, Titus……you’re just like Straxus…you promised me…” She said angrily as she stood in front of Drakus, ready to protect him.

Titus’ eyes softened up a bit, “Lypámai… ”[2] And with that, he disappeared, leaving Isra and Drakus alone. 

With Drakus finally calming down, Isra picked him up and held him to her chest. “That was quite a wail you’ve got, Drakus…I know now that you will survive from night until morning, and from morning until night…” She whispered, hoping to soothe Drakus down a little more.

She then kissed Drakus’ tiny indented nose before heading back to the bed and lied back down, holding Drakus close and protectively.

“Tycherós mou[3]…My lucky one…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
> [1] Polý kalá = Very well  
> [2] Lypámai = I'm sorry  
> [3] Tycherós mou = My lucky one


	5. Mixed Feelings (Dorkus' POV)

It wasn't long before the rest of the Tribe knew of my existence; my mother told me that my father escorted her back to the Grand Hut with me in her arms, and that was when the others saw me.

They were overjoyed at first for the Tribe now had a second prince to serve and obey.

Because of my premature birth, I developed a lot slower than my brother. With my legs being weaker, I didn't learn how to walk until a couple of months after my first birthday. I didn't learn how to speak my first word until I was almost two years old.

I didn't notice the tension between my parents until I was well into my sixth year. My father never did things with me and when I had an issue, my mother was there to tell me that everything was going to be fine. I knew right away that that was a lie. If everything was going to be all right in the end, why did my father despise me, yet favored my brother?

The other Soruan children made a mockery of me, and because of that, my brother refused to stand up for me due to him not wanting to be ostracized along with me. The others took advantage of my weakened body and I was beaten; because they were bigger and stronger than I was, I suffered a couple of broken bones and whatever muscle I had became strained.

I think my mother may have labeled me wrong when I was born; I never consider myself lucky in the slightest.

My greatest issue then when I was living in that Hell was the fact that my mother chose to stay with a man that would hurt her children, as well as said man allowing the others to torment and hurt me even though they know that I am their Lord's son. They didn't care because my father allowed it, and that is something I will never forgive my mother for. Never.


	6. Sneaking Out

“Are you sure Father won’t get mad at us, brother?”  
“Absolutely, Drakus. Just do as I say and we won’t get in trouble.”

“I trust you, Palokus…”

In the middle of the night, the two Soruan Princes, Palokus and Drakus, now ten and eight respectively, climbed out of their bedroom window and were now looking towards the barrier. The barrier was brought up by Titus to keep anyone and anything from trespassing, but it also meant that no one was allowed to leave without his permission.

* * *

Early in the day, during dinner, Drakus had brought up what life outside the tribe would be like.

“What do you all think could be out there?”

Not looking up from his seat, Titus answered. “A barren wasteland…”

Isra gave Titus a side-glance before looking at Drakus. “I’m sure that there are other inhabitants that are native to this planet, Drakus.” She answered. “However, I’m not so sure of it myself as I haven’t seen any…”

Suddenly, Palokus jumped up from his seat and slammed his hands on the table, startling Drakus. “Wanna know what I think? I think there could be terrifying monsters and creatures that are scarier than Father!” When Palokus looked his father’s way, he saw him chuckling. “What’s so funny, Father?” Palokus asked, worried that he may have offended Titus.

“You have a vivid imagination, Palokus.” Titus smirked. “I would have to see these ‘terrifying’ monsters myself. What would think these creatures have? A long snout with large, sharp teeth and two tails? Or could they perhaps have fire breathing capabilities?” He asked while picking food out of his teeth with his claw.

“You’ll never know, dear…” Isra mumbled while alerting a helper to deal with their empty dishes.

After a couple of minutes of silence, Drakus spoke up again. “Can me and Palokus go out and explore the rest of the planet, Father?” He asked Titus.

Titus looked at him with red fiery eyes. “You know what my answer is, Drakus. Absolutely out of the question. Do you understand me, boy?” He growled, making Drakus shrink himself down at the table.

“Yes, Father…” Drakus squeaked.

* * *

Drakus sighed as he finally landed on the ground outside their home. He still thought that going against his father’s wishes was a bad idea. Nonetheless, he gave in to his curiosity and continued following Palokus, being ever so quiet as to not awaken the other Soruas.

The brothers finally reached the barrier and cautiously approached it. The barrier emanated a dark violet aura that was only visible in the dark of night, but nearly invisible in the light of day.

“Brother, maybe we should go back.” Drakus whimpered as he watched Palokus proceed to the barrier.

Palokus looked behind him and scoffed. “Don’t be such a dorkus, Drakus. One day, we’ll rule over this tribe. The others are not going to look up to a scaredy-Sorua, now come on!” He called out.

‘I’m no dorkus…I’ll show you first-hand, Palokus…’ Drakus thought and cautiously proceeded to the barrier, quivering as he did.

Palokus was the first that became closest to the barrier and touched it with his clawed hand. The barrier slightly rippled under his touch, but it did not give way. “Hmmm…didn’t work…I wonder why.” Palokus said to himself. 

All of a sudden, he heard a snort and a growl from behind him and looked behind him to see that his father was awake and was now standing behind Drakus, towering over them.

Drakus spun around and backed up to where his brother was. “F-Father, I-I can explain…”

“Silence!” Titus boomed, his voice reverberating off the huts, waking up the other Soruas who looked out their windows to see what was going on. “I thought I specifically told you no, Drakus, and you deliberately disobeyed my wishes!” Titus yelled again, causing Drakus and Palokus to huddle up and cling on to one another in fear.

Palokus looked up at Titus with blue tear-filled eyes, “I-It’s not his fault, Father. I was the one w-who made him come out with me…” He tried to explain, but Titus was hearing none of it.

“You both will be returning home and locked into your room until I tell you when you can come out…” Titus said, his fiery red eyes casting down on Drakus.

“Yes, Father…” The boys said and started to walk back to the Grand Hut to do their punishment for betraying their father.


	7. Cruel Punishment

Drakus and Palokus chose not to struggle in their father's grip. They figured that angering him more would not be such a good idea. Since Titus had wanted them back home within a reasonable time limit, he decided to simply grab both his sons and walk back to the Grand Hut.  
Once inside, the Soruan trio walked through the hallways, past the servants' quarters and stopped at Palokus' bedroom door where Titus simply released Palokus and watched as he scampered off in his room, closing the door behind him. After the door was shut, Titus tightened his grip on Drakus' arm and dragged Drakus to his own room, which was cramped and cold compared to Palokus', whose room had more open space and was relatively warmer.

"Ugh! Father, you're hurting me!" Drakus cried out in pain when he had the slightest feeling that his arm would dislocate from the force of the pull.

"Eínai sio̱pi̱lós!"[1] Titus growled at him, refusing to slow down.

When they finally reached Drakus' room, Titus kicked the door open and threw Drakus inside, slamming the door behind him. "Time to dole out your punishment, boy…" Titus hissed at Drakus, the claws on his right hand extending from the fingertips as he approached his son.

Drakus looked up at his father in fear, tears welling up in his violet eyes. "F-Father, please! I-I'm sorry!" He whimpered, backing up to where his spiked bed was. He realized that he was trapped when he saw that there was nowhere else to go but out his small window; he wasn't stupid enough to jump from such a great height. His fragile bones wouldn't be able to withstand such pain.

"Stay where you are, boy. Do not attempt anything that you'll regret later…" Titus said as he threw his right arm back and struck, a sickening slashing sound of claws connecting with skin could be heard as well as a blood curdled scream that came from the young boy.

Drakus could feel the unbearable pain of his father's claws slashing at the left side of his face; he was afraid that his jaw would give out if his father hit a particular nerve that would keep him in pain for years to come. He thought that his punishment was over when he felt his father's claws retract from his face; he was dead wrong.

What came next was a large powerful fist connecting with Drakus' chin. The force of the punch sent Drakus flying backwards, the back of his head contacting with the unforgiving wall of his bedroom, making him go unconscious as he slumped to the floor.

Titus showed no emotion after what he'd done and proceeded to leave the room when he heard a soft thump behind him. He slowly turned and saw that Drakus was unconscious, laying on his side with visible tears streaming down his face. "Serves you right, boy…hopefully you have learned your lesson…" Titus growled lowly and backed out of the room, closing the door and walking back to his own chambers.

It would only be a matter of time before someone came to look for Drakus and see the slash and dark bruise on the left side of his face; afterwards, they would probably alert Isra what had happened to the young prince, then there would be hell to pay. Titus knew that Isra would never let him live it down, that was to be sure.

A half-hour after Titus departed, Drakus groaned and slowly sat himself up. He first felt the back of his head to feel for any cracks; he sighed slightly in relief after finding none. He then felt his chin and jaw and realized that the impact from his father's punch had made his jaw dislocate, making his mouth appear slightly opened at an angle and any attempt to close it or push it back would only hurt him more. He would have to wait until morning to get his jaw relocated and sighed in frustration, seething from the pain.

He gently got on his bed, minding the spikes; he had gotten used to it overtime, but it still hurt his back nonetheless. One thought still lingered as he drifted off to sleep: why? Why did he have to have the cruelest punishment doled out to him when his brother would only receive a spanking and a stern talking to? It didn't make much sense as to why his father favored Palokus and not punish him equally. Did Titus perhaps want him dead or wish that he was never born? What was it about him that made his own father hate him so?

Drakus thought that being loathed by his father was cruel punishment enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
> [1] Eínai sio̱pi̱lós! = Be silent!


	8. Dorkus' Introduction

Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Dorkus Aurelius, Royal Adviser to the Zeenuian Emperor; my current goal is to rid Zeenu of the meddlesome and impetuous alien, Sheen, who has stolen everything I’ve worked for. I am deemed an idiot, a coward, and an evil monster by those who don’t know me or my story.

Before Sheen arrived, I was at the top of my game and was deemed a hero in the Emperor’s and the Zeenuians’ eyes. I’ve never intended to harm anyone or anything unless they were deserving of their punishment; by my Emperor’s command, I carried out the punishment, even if they were sentenced to death. I carried the title of “Warrior-Executioner,” where my skills as a warrior as well as carrying out the executions were combined into one lethal force that was Yours Truly.

Before my rise to power, I was but a lowly servant to the Emperor as well as to the previous Head Adviser who went under the name of Krod. By this time, I was an escapee from my home, my Hell, the Hell that is the Soruan Tribe, where I am called a coward by my own father; if I can call him that.

Despite my hatred towards my father and his thinking of my supposed cowardice, I am still considered a prince; nicknamed “The Lucky Prince” by the other Soruas.

My name is Prince Drakus Aurelius, Soruan Prince, and youngest son to Lord Titus and Lady Isra Aurelius; my story begins in the Soruan Tribe; my Hell.


End file.
